Reunion
by therewassnow
Summary: 10 years after Finn & Santana graduate from McKinley, they both find themselves in Chicago, where Finn is interviewing for a job that will make Santana his boss. As they prepare for their ten year reunion, nothing will prepare them for their own path.
1. Changes

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Glee nor Finn and Santana's characters. I do, however, own some original characters who may appear in the story later on.

**Author's note: **This idea came to me after some late night pondering. It's a futurefic, set ten years after Finn and Santana graduate from McKinley High. The rating will go up in later chapters. Please read and review.

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><p>Going for a job interview on his 28th birthday was probably not what Finn Hudson had really envisioned for himself when he was seventeen and daydreaming about his future on the flight to Nationals, but nothing in his life had really turned out the way that he'd planned it. First of all, he and Rachel had reached the end of their road in senior year, when he got accepted to college in Chicago and she was still going to New York. Their end was amicable, even if Finn wanted to try and make things work long distance. She'd won three Tony awards and been robbed of two since then and he had finished college with a degree in digital design and was actually pretty well known. Turns out all his doodles in his notebook and time spent playing video games came in handy. Now, instead of doodling in his notebook, he spent his time doodling in Adobe Creative Suite, making advertising campaigns come to life for major companies. The name Finn Hudson had some weight now, and he had done himself proud. There had been girls here and there, but his last stable relationship had been in his senior year of college. He had turned into one of those 'career' people, who enjoyed the liberties that came with being hot, young, and upwardly mobile. He wasn't a manwhore, but he didn't have any shortage of girls rolling in and out of his bed at odd hours either. Maybe that was the benefits of living in a penthouse suite in one of Chicago's most prestigious apartment complexes.<p>

Puck had been doing a gig at a local venue the night before, and he had called up Finn, but Finn had politely declined his offer for drinks because he had this interview in the morning. He wasn't just interviewing for any company, he was interviewing for the largest and most well-reputed advertising firm in all of Chicago, so he had to be on his A-game. The pay was ridiculous and the benefits were outrageous and he really wanted this job. Finn was that guy that everyone was sure was going to go nowhere. Everyone thought he was going to take over Burt's tire shop, that he was going to be a Lima loser. His ten year high school reunion was coming up and he wanted to show everyone that they were wrong. That Finn Hudson was a winner, and working for Pratt and Forbes would really make that happen. Not that working for Illuminate Designs Inc. was bad or anything. They had done this advertising campaign for Wal-Mart that had really raked in the bacon, and the whole idea had been Finn's – anyone who picked up one of those magazines for 'intellectuals' knew that, because he was in them all, but this would mean that he was the best, the top candidate.

So, as proof of his work ethic, he had shown up with both a digital and a print copy of his portfolio, three copies of his resume, he had done his research on the company and hell, he had even gone out and bought himself a new suit. He looked sharp, and as he walked into the Pratt and Forbes office, he knew that. He also knew that he was going to get the job. It was his second interview – the first had been by phone, and this one would be the deciding one. But as he sat in the reception area waiting for his turn, he knew he had the job. At a certain point, everyone interviewed for the same jobs, once you got to the top, and sometimes, you interviewed just to piss someone off. But Finn was going to this interview for himself and for everyone who had ever told him he was going to be a Lima Loser.

"Mr. Hudson, it's your turn," the receptionist smiled. "Second office on your left."

"Thank you very much," Finn replied, giving the receptionist a curt nod before standing up and smoothing down his suit. Checking himself out in the glass of the office in front of him, he fixed up his tie and took a deep breath, taking a confident stride into the room and setting down his briefcase. "Finn Hudson," he introduced, waiting for his interviewer to turn around. It was a woman, because he could see the end of her pointy red pumps. High ones, ones that usually wouldn't be reserved for the office.

"It's been a long time, Finnocence," the woman laughed, before swivelling her chair around.

The swivel was unnecessary. Finn swallowed hard. Only one person had ever called him Finnocence, and suddenly, the shoes, the red, it all made sense. Santana Lopez looked every bit as bitchy and terrifying as she had when they were members of New Directions, now she was just doing it in what could only be described as business attire meant to test the willpower of every man alive. Well, every man alive plus every lesbian on planet Earth because Santana had come out at Nationals in their junior year to be with Brittany Pierce.

"Santana?" he inquired, even though it was perfectly clear that yes, he was in front of Santana Lopez. "What are you doing here?"

"Honestly, I'm surprised you've become such a big name in the design world. You're every bit as dumb as you were in high school and those pastry puff nipples are certainly something that will never go away," she snarked, shaking her head as she opened his file and gestured for him to take a seat. "In case you haven't figured this out yet, _Mr. Hudson_, I'll be interviewing you for the position as the head of graphic design. Instead of asking you a bunch of rather pointless questions, I'll be giving you two minutes. Impress me. Your time starts right now," she smirked and God damn, she had an actual timer set up with two minutes on it.

"Uh, okay," Finn replied, instantly snatching her copy of his resume from her file and pulling out a pen from his jacket pocket. "Well... for one, while I mean no disrespect, Pratt and Forbes' logo is a little antiquated. I mean, the company only opened in 1993 and while the original graphic was relevant at the time," he rambled, drawing out a new logo quickly given that he only had two minutes, "the styles have changed so much since then that your letterhead looks like it's something out of the 90s. If you want your company to remain on the cutting edge and appear to be the best, it has to look like something worthy of the modern age, where the internet is changing the face of advertising. The logo has to reflect that, and I think that that logo is... this."

Sliding the paper back to her, Finn clicked his pen and set it down. He still had fifteen seconds left to spare. "By the way, if you were trying to throw me off my game by keeping yourself turned around like that, you'll have to try a little harder," he added, as Santana inspected his work.

"Impressive. Very impressive. Only you could get away with insulting the company that you supposedly want to work for and have it come off as semi-charming," the Latina nodded, looking at his logo. "It's interesting. I've given everyone the same two minutes but you're the only one who's sat down and drawn me something."

"Well, I'm not interviewing for the sales department, but you want to see if I can do one thing, design, so there you go. Proof that I can, and I can do it quickly. I'm good under pressure, and-"

"I wouldn't call you good under pressure. I've known you since you had a problem with being an early ejaculator. Trust me, you're terrible under pressure," she snapped, not to be mean, simply to remind him that she was the one running this interview.

"Well people change," Finn assured her, not missing a beat. "And I can perform extremely well under pressure now. I mean, I drew that logo in two minutes and I managed to show you that I know about this company's history, when it was started, where it's going, all while doodling on a copy of my resume."

"That is true," Santana conceded. "Well, I look forward to seeing how you can perform now."

"But you're a lesbian," Finn reminded her.

"I meant at the company," she clarified, giving him a look that she had given him when they were standing in the hallway discussing the loss of his virginity, which is what he had been convinced they were talking about. "I look forward to seeing how you can perform at Pratt and Forbes, because you've just gotten yourself a job working for this girl right here."

"I did?" he questioned, his face lighting up in the same way that it had always lit up whenever he got great news.

"Yes, you did. Welcome to Pratt and Forbes, Mr. Hudson," Santana smirked, standing up and shaking his hand with a grip that she had probably perfected over the years before the only word Finn could use to describe it was _crushing_. "You start tomorrow. I'll give you a call on your cell phone to set up lunch later and we can discuss the details, but first I need you to go out there and look like shit because it's fun torturing all of you and I have nothing better to do with my morning," she shrugged.

"You really haven't changed a bit," Finn laughed, shaking his head as he picked up his briefcase.

"Oh, I have," she assured him, licking her lips absentmindedly. "You'll come to learn that in time. After all, we're going to be working _very_ closely together from now on."

"Don't remind me," Finn teased.

"Hey, watch it. I can hand you your ass on a silver platter. I am your _boss_ now," Santana grinned, a big, mischievous cheshire cat grin.

"I'll see you for lunch," he replied, shaking his head with a roll of his eyes as he opened the door.

Wow. Holy shit. He had gotten the job, but more importantly, he was looking his past in the face. Well, he had made it, but the joke at the ten year reunion now was going to be that he had become Santana's bitch. _Perfect_.


	2. Lunch date

**Author's Note: **Thank you for the kind reviews. Unbeta'd so any errors are mine. Please keep R&Ring!

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><p>If there's one thing in life that Finn Hudson knows he will never understand, it's a woman's mind. Arguably, he's not as dumb as he was when he was in high school, but he is still as clueless about girls. He doesn't understand them and he's fully aware that he never will. It's kind of a problem, but he's learned to manage it so he doesn't seem <em>quite<em> so dumb. He's spent time dating girls who like flowers, random romantic gestures, and his last girlfriend was a total sex fiend, so he knew he was doing something right, but it was mostly a lot of guess work.

Santana Lopez was the type of girl, scratch that, _woman_, who, even though they weren't romantically involved, was going to require him to put in as much effort as if they were, just to make her happy. At work. Finn was screwed, but he really wanted the job, so he was going to power through it like a champ. After all, it was only Santana. He was way taller than her and he had never paid attention to Mr. Schuester's Spanish classes in high school, so if she called him stupid or an unsexy cabbage patch doll in Spanish, he would never know. He was convinced that maybe it could be okay. Kind of.

So long as Santana didn't keep doing what she was doing as she entered the restaurant.

She really hadn't changed much since high school. She didn't look like she was sixteen anymore, but all the typical Santana qualities were still there. So when she walked into a room, it was, for Finn at least, like one of those slow motion pans from Baywatch or something, where everything just slowed down and he had to think of the mail. Well, he didn't _actually_ think of the mail anymore, but the point was, she could still make any man spring a boner in 0.2 seconds and she _totally_ knew it.

Or if she didn't, someone really needed to tell her because the way she was unclipping her hair and running her fingers through her gorgeous black locks was _really_ not doing anything good for his professionalism. That and the fact that her blouse was probably one size too small so when she had to raise her arms up to comb her fingers through her hair, he was getting a total show of her bra through the buttons, which were struggling not to burst. But, at least he had the fact that she wasn't into his equipment in his favor. It would just be really uncomfortable to try and stand up or generally move until she left, but if she got up first, there would be no problem.

"You're early. I'm impressed that you know how to read a watch," she snarked as she joined him at the table where he was seated, to which he narrowed his eyes at her. He had forgotten that like, _everything_ that came out of her mouth was sarcastic and usually it was demeaning. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard (pun completely intended) after all.

"You should be careful with how many times you tell me you're impressed by me. I'm counting all of those for my annual assessment as proof that I deserve a raise," he joked, raking a hand through his hair. Okay, that was good, he hadn't made a total idiot out of himself. He could totally seem like a normal functioning human being and he could totally do this without making her think he was still a weird frankenteen. Which he wasn't – well, not really anyways. He was still tall but he wasn't so _totally_ awkward and he only had one and a half left feet now instead of two. Or that's what his last girlfriend had told him.

"Don't be so cocky, Finnocence. I'm impressed but I'm not _that_ impressed. You haven't even survived a full day of work with me yet. If you thought I was bitchy in high school, you haven't seen anything yet," she warned, and the look on her face told Finn that she was about as serious as a heart attack.

"I'm pretty sure if I could handle it in high school, I can handle whatever you throw at me now," he assured her, smiling as their waiter came to pour them some water. "Besides, it's not like you're really all that different than high school. I mean, yeah now you work as this super executive lady, but you're still Santana. I'm still bigger than you so if you decide to go all Lima Heights on me, I can still take you."

"I'll have you know I spend most of my free time doing kick boxing," she smirked, licking her lips. Well, that was unexpected, and potentially dangerous for him. Sure, he was in great physical shape but she had great aim – like that time she'd stabbed him with her nail file in the arm and had caused it to bleed – so he was suddenly worried.

Thankful for the distraction of his water, Finn took a large sip as Santana smirked, satisfied that she had won that one, before jumping straight into business. "So, we'd like you to start as soon as possible. The sooner, the better, really. We are on the brink of getting a new client and we'd like you to start before the campaign goes ahead. That High-Lites campaign you did last year was very impressive, the bosses want to make sure you handle this one if we get it. Well, I should say _when_, because there's no way that the company could possibly turn me down, but yeah. They want you on board."

"I can start immediately. I gave my two weeks notice a few weeks ago and figured that I could freelance it or start my own company if this didn't work out," Finn replied, giving a little nod. "Just set me up with my office and a hot little assistant, and I'll be fine."

"Oh, all of our assistants are hot," she assured him. "I hand pick those, too. You'll come to notice that I do most of the important work around that place," she informed him, shrugging as she sipped at her water and looked over the menu.

"Good to know," he sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "So what is this company that you're looking to acquire?"

"Apple. You may have heard of them," Santana replied, not looking up from her menu.

"You mean-"

"Yes, Steve Jobs, iPhones, Macbook, etc. _That_ Apple," Santana nodded, sighing heavily as she shook her head. "You're not in the little leagues anymore, Finnocence. Get used to working with clients like this."

Finn knew that Pratt and Forbes did some big clients, but Apple was a _big_ client.

"The company is looking to move in a different direction and it seems like they're trying to move to the cutting edge, really push the fact that their products kick ass in a new way. The people are tired of 'I'm a PC' and 'I'm a Mac'. You know how the consumers are. They're like ADD children hyped up on sugar."

"I know," Finn replied, setting down his menu. This was always where he came on lunches. He always ordered the same thing – the pasta aribbiata. He always neglected any offers of wine, and he always footed the bill. The staff practically knew him by name. Finn was a creature of habit. He liked that certain parts of his life could be a routine, predictable even, because life seemed to throw enough curve balls his way. Like Santana Lopez being his new boss.

"I expect you to start brainstorming ideas and to have three on my desk by the time that you walk in in the morning," Santana cooed, almost like she was expecting him to freak out. He was, but he was totally going to keep that under wraps. He wasn't sure if it was the assignment or Santana that was freaking him out anymore….

"I can do that," Finn replied, signaling the waiter when Santana wasn't looking to come back and take their orders. "I'll have the pasta aribbiata," Finn offered, pretending like the waiter didn't already know that.

"I'll have the same," Santana replied.

"I know," the waiter sighed, shaking his head.

"Come here often?" she inquired, arching an eyebrow with a slight quirk of her lips.

"Apparently, as do you," he nodded, smiling to himself.

"The pasta is so fucking good here. Sometimes my meetings are just so borings and I just want to rip my hair out but the pasta makes it worth it," she shrugged.

"I know the feeling," Finn replied, nodding his head again.

"So, I suppose this would be a good time to ask – is there anything I need to worry about with you? No girlfriend who is set to give birth at any minute? No elaborate escape plan for when I remind you of how inadequate you really are compared to me?"

"No, no girlfriend. No escape plans. Though I promise, you're not giving me enough credit. I'm a lot more adequate than you're giving me credit for right now," Finn insisted, shifting in his seat a little.

"Status is something that has to be _earned_ with me, Finn. If you want my respect as an employee, I don't just hand it out. Have you ever watched Grey's Anatomy? Well, even if you haven't, I have an ongoing settlement dispute with ABC over referring to interns by numbers as opposed to names. That was _my_ idea. I won't refer to you by a number, because once upon a time I took your v-card and that would be weird, but that's the only kind of preferential treatment you're getting," Santana clarified, nodding to herself.

"Good to know," he sighed, raking his hand through his hair as he licked his lips. "What about you? I mean, do you take personal days off? I mean, you used to skip quite often to sneak off with Brittany if I remember correctly."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she smirked, playing with the hem of her shirt. "But no, I don't take any days off, that's not professional. The last time I took a day off was… wow, I can't even remember. I didn't even take vacation last year, which is a real shame, because the beaches can always use a little Santana Lopez in a bikini."

Okay, seriously, now she was just doing this to torture him, that was the only reason, he was sure. How was he _not_ supposed to be picturing her in a bikini now? She smirked at him again, as if she knew that he was doing it, but she let a silence fall over them as she stared around the restaurant. It was odd, but comfortable, all at the same time. He and Santana sat in silence a lot when they were in high school. Waiting for others to arrive for Glee, sitting in that motel room after he'd lost his virginity. It was something they knew well. And it was how they sat until their food arrived.

"Your office is going to be the one right across from mine," she said, quietly, almost like she was talking to herself rather than him. "It's not as nice as mine, but it's not the worst one either."

"That's good to know," he nodded, sighing heavily as he picked as his pasta. It was weird, it was just starting to sink in for him. He was working for Santana Lopez. He was going to be across from her five days a week. He was going to have to put up with her bitching, her whining, and he couldn't do anything because she was his boss. _Damn it_.

Swallowing hard as he ate his pasta, Finn couldn't understand why he had this strange feeling in his stomach. Like he'd inhaled a rock or something. There was only one way that this could end for him: terribly. Finn knew that feeling too well. It was the feeling he got whenever he was about to royally screw up.

It was a feeling he hadn't felt since high school.


	3. Showtime

**Author's note: **Thanks for the reviews! Keep 'em coming! Unbeta'ed as always. And to the person who said that I confused House with Grey's in the last chapter, I didn't. Christina refuses to call her interns by name at one point, and Lexie gets mad and goes off on this rant about how she isn't a number, she has a name. :)

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><p><em>She's lying in bed, totally naked and she can see her red panties on the floor out of the corner of her eye, in the same spot where he tossed them hours earlier, as her body shakes, desperate for release, but he warned her that there would be consequences if she didn't do what he said. One hand is laced with his and she's squeezing it for dear life, the other is threading through his hair, tugging as her back arches. "Please," she whimpers, and he smirks and nods, his fingers curling more purposefully, and that's all it takes. She's chanting his name like some kind of mantra and she's sure he's going to drive her insane.<em>

Or maybe she already was crazy, because what the fuck was that loud buzzing noise?

"Damn it," she growled, as she realized that the buzzing was her alarm clock and she'd had another sex dream about him… _again_. That was three nights in a row. _In a row_. It felt like she was back in high school.

And of course, she forgot about that early morning meeting until now, so the throbbing between her legs was going to go unanswered. Clamping a hand over her face, Santana groaned and sighed heavily. What was _wrong_ with her and why the hell was she dreaming about Finn Hudson's face between her thighs?

She was pretty sure the vivid fantasies and dreams had started after their third lunch meeting. He had licked his lips after his pasta and she had happened to notice and now… well, she couldn't really unsee it. She noticed every time he did it because he had a long tongue and long tongues were meant for being used. That was just how it was.

And since her time in New Directions, Santana Lopez had realized that she was wrong about her sexuality. Girls, guys, she really didn't give a fuck as long as she was _being_ fucked. Maybe that made her sound like a whore but… she just really liked sex. It was so much fun and with the right person, things could get _really_ interesting. She wasn't sure that she'd ever pictured Finn Hudson as one of those people that she would want a repeat performance with, but then again, when she'd been seventeen she had never stopped to picture Finn Hudson in his late twenties.

The last ten years had done him good. He had lost some weight, he had stopped copying Jimmy Neutron with his hair and he walked around with the confidence of a guy who knew that he was worth something in life. He no longer thought that he was _Lima_ good. He thought that he was good enough for the world. It had caught her by surprise, honestly, because she had expected the same bumbling idiot she had once known, but he was nothing like that. He was the exact same but he was also incredibly different.

She was also incredibly different, but the exact same. She was still sarcastic as ever, driven to be number one, but the same scars still hurt her. Santana Lopez was not someone who got hurt easily, but when someone hurt her, she remembered it for life. Without even knowing it, probably, because he'd been as dense as a concrete wall back then, Finn Hudson had hurt her. _"I don't feel anything… because it didn't mean anything."_ She still remembered those exact words and they still stung like a bitch every time she thought of them. She wondered if that was how she made other people feel with her brutal honesty. It wasn't something she liked to dwell on, because she liked being a bitch. She just didn't like getting it back.

Pushing the thought out of her head, Santana focused on her outfit for that day. She had an important meeting with Finn about this deal they were trying to finish with Apple and she needed to look perfect. Her outfit needed to say 'fuckable but not interested' while still being labeled 'business appropriate' and 'work attire'. It was such a hard job being a hot girl with one too many pencil skirts and button down shirts.

She just really liked clothes and she liked the feeling of being to manipulate boys. She had always enjoyed that feeling. That was probably why she now labeled herself as bisexual. That was also why she was probably going to go through life alone.

Santana was the sort of girl who enjoyed the chase, but got bored once she got the object of her affection. She had been with Brittany for a while, sure, but that had ended when Santana had been going one place, and Brittany had been going another. Truthfully, Santana did miss her but Brittany was her past. She'd been her past for a while now, and she was over her. Now, she was 28 and her mother kept calling and asking her when she was going to settle down with a nice boy and have a family.

If she had her way, the family part would never come, but it would be nice to settle down with a boy, or a girl. Wait… _what_?

"Ugh, look at yourself. What is wrong with you?" Santana sighed, shaking her head as she pulled her favorite skirt out of her closet, smoothing it down as she set it on her bed, settling on a white top to go with it and a smart, savvy jacket. She needed to look the part and paired with her glasses (too many hours of reading paperwork had killed her perfect eyesight) and her signature red heels, she was sure to pull off the look that she desired. Which was _not _'girl eagerly awaiting impregnation. Donors line up'. Not at all.

Fucking Finnocence making her think about things like that when he wasn't even there. Yes, she was blaming it on him because her morning had started with thoughts of him and her mind had gone on a tangent from there… it was totally his fault. That was her story and she was damn well going to stick to it. It was totally convenient anyways. Most of the bad things in her life, in one way or another, could be pegged down to Finn Hudson.

Everyone had always regarded him as if he was some sort of demi-God, but Santana knew a hell of a lot better. After all, he was the reason she was such a bitch now. Embarrassing story, but true – in kindergarten, she had a crush on Finn for like, two days, and she totally told him about it and she even gave him some of her animal crackers. Her _favorite_ animal crackers, to top it off, because they were the limited edition chocolate kind, and he laughed at her before stomping on her crackers and telling her she had cooties. She'd spent the rest of recess crying in the bathroom, and then she had spent the next thirteen years being snarky to him. He'd crushed her five year old and ever since then, she had never been the same.

Okay, so she had totally come out of the womb and called the nurse fat, but that was besides the point. It was convenient to blame Finn whenever someone asked her _why_ she was a bitch. Heartbreak was a bitch and many people said that it turned people into them. She was just sticking with that story. Of course, she'd never told _Finn_ that story, and she never would, and he probably didn't even remember that. She knew he had trouble remembering what he'd eaten a meal earlier, so she wasn't sure he was capable of stretching that far into his long term memory.

The point was, Finn Hudson had been wreaking havoc in her life for a while. After the kindergarten incident, he had told her that it "didn't mean anything" that she had let him get as close to her as she ever let anyone get, and then when he had asked her to keep it a secret, she had done it – well, until it came bubbling out but she was just so _angry_ and tired of people making him out to be something better than he was. He had fucked her up and made her confused about who she was and she wasn't sure that she would ever forgive him for it.

In retrospect, hiring him was probably a really terrible idea, but it wasn't like she could fire him on the grounds that she was realizing that she kind of hated him… or something.

Sighing heavily as she looked at her reflection in the mirror, Santana pulled her hair up into a ponytail and checked her cell phone to see if she had any urgent texts or last minute changes to her schedule. She didn't, thank God. At least something was going right today. Grabbing her suitcase and an apple for the road, she was out the door in a flash, determined to think about something else. She would focus on something important – like this meeting.

They _had_ to seal this deal, because, honestly, she really didn't want to get hell from her bosses. While it was fun being you-know-who's boss, she had people she had to answer to and it wasn't fun getting in shit because she hadn't flirted properly. While she was extremely business savvy, nine times out of ten, that wasn't what closed their deals. It was her boobs. God bless them. Yeah, they'd been surgically enhanced but whatever. They were awesome, that was what counted. And they had saved her many a deal. It was amazing what boobs could do. Or at least, her boobs. They were magical or something.

But, for once, she was really prepared for this meeting and she was hoping to get by on just her mental prowess. She and Finn had been working tirelessly on their proposal. He threw out the ideas and she put them into big words that sounded like they came from someone who had graduated with honors in college. Now that television had moved into the 3D age and was gaining in popularity, Apple had decided to put out a 3D computer screen, kind of like something out of Star Trek, and so they had come up with an entire digital model with plans for how they could carry and expand the project forward for several years, to adapt to Apple's changing model. Really, she was impressed with Finn's work, now she just had to sell it.

Taking a deep breath as she walked into the building, she was surprised to find that Finn was already there… or maybe it was still there because his eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he had been running his hands through his hair for quite a while. "Hudson, get in here!" she called, ushering him quickly into her office.

"What the hell, we have a presentation to do in an hour. You look like you're in a drug-induced semi-coma!" Santana snapped, about a second away from slapping him.

"I'll be fine by the time they get here," he assured her. "I thought it would be better if we had something more than slides to show them so I was working on something all night."

"This has better be damned good," she warned, crossing her arms over her chest expectantly.

"Oh it is," Finn smirked, to which she rolled her eyes. His cocky act was _really _getting old, even if it was maybe a little hot. _A little_.

Following him back into his office, Santana waited for him to load up what he'd been working on and _damn_, he was right, it was worth her time. She had a little moving, perfect model of him. It looked _exactly _like him in 3D, none of that cheap animation stuff, coming out of the screen. "You're right, this is better than the slides."

"I just thought that if were gonna impress them, we needed more than what everyone else is going to throw at them. We need to show them that we're already willing to go above and beyond even before we've officially signed with them," he shrugged.

"Who are you?" she scoffed, shaking her head. "Send that to my e-mail so I can take a better look at it and spend forty five minutes sleeping. I'll come wake you up and bring you a comb for your hair."

"Thanks," Finn nodded, already making himself comfortable in his chair, his eyes heavy. Closing the door behind her, Santana sighed. It was _really_ hard to remember to be a bitch to him when he did things like that – taking initiative, going above and beyond the call of duty. She was going to have a fucking hard time not giving him a raise in his annual review at this rate. He'd only been here a few weeks and he was already putting some of the partners to shame.

The next hour passed quickly. Looking over Finn's thing was complicated because she didn't understand what the _fuck_ any of these technical things were, so she had to spend quite a bit of time Googling, and then waking Finn up had been like trying to wake a sleeping bear. She was straightening up his tie for him as her secretary called her that the Apple executives had arrived. "This is it," she informed him, not that she thought he was that slow or anything, but still.

"It'll go fine," Finn replied. Why was he trying to reassure her? Shit, did she look nervous? _Ugh, stop being so paranoid, you're a badass and you know it_. She had this meeting in the bag. Adjusting her boobs in her shirt and flicking her hair over her shoulder, Santana strutted out of her office and pulled on the friendliest smile she could muster, letting Finn figure out that he was supposed to follow her. _Showtime_.


	4. The Color Red

**Author's note: **As always, thanks for the reviews. This chapter is rated M for mature. Also, this fulfills a prompt for the Santana Lopez drabble meme.

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><p>They got the deal. They got the fucking deal. She was like the superstar of the office, and it was all thanks to Finn. Well, also thanks to her skills of flirtation and negotiation, but mostly thanks to Finn. She had actually run into her office and done a little dance. Finn had <em>totally<em> caught her since he had come in to congratulate her, but now she was so fucking drunk that she didn't care.

After work, she and Finn had gone down to El Poco Loco, some dive bar, which was really beneath them, but the atmosphere was good. There was karaoke, people were doing body shots, and she'd lost her panties in a game of poker and they were hanging out of the edge of Johnny Lawson's pocket. He was a major skeeze (hence the loss of underwear if you lost the game) but she was too wasted to really give a shit that the whole team now knew that she wore red lace thongs to work. They matched her shoes and she really, really loved the color red.

Of course, Santana's shoes were the last thing that anyone was focused on as the Latina was up on a table top dancing around as she sang to some karaoke. "Friday night and the lights are low, lookin' out for a place to go. Where they play the right music, getting in the swiiiiiiiing," she slurred, swinging her hips as she ran a hand through her hair. "Hey Finn, do you remember I sang this at junior prom?" she shouted, her voice ringing through the bar.

"No, I got kicked out early, remember?" he pointed out, shaking his head as he tilted his beer at a co-worker.

"Oh yeah, cause you were fighting over Rachel, right…" Santana mumbled, shaking her head as she went back to singing. There were not enough words for the fucks she didn't give about high school drama right now. But there were plenty of fucks to be given about the fact that she was out of a beer.

"Refill, please!" she shouted, reaching for a hand to help her down from the table. Finn's arms were the longest, so he helped her down with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

"You're a crazy drunk. So much better than the weepy, hysterical drunk you were in high school," he smirked, not making an effort to let go of her hand. Santana was really too drunk to care, and perched herself in his lap since all the seats at the table were taken. Apparently she drew quite a crowd when she was doing her drunk dancing on table tops.

"Yeah, well, I learned how to chug beers in my freshman year of college. We'll just say that it was a very revealing year," she smirked, pushing a hand into his hair absentmindedly as the other grabbed for the beer that their waiter brought over.

"More revealing than your shirt?" he quipped, pointing out the fact that the button in the center of her chest had popped open. He seemed quite amused with himself, to which Santana could only roll her eyes.

"You are such a pervert, Hudson. I am your boss," she reminded him.

"And you're using _my_ lap as a chair," he pointed out. God _damn_ when did he get so sure of himself? It was really hot.

"Oh please. All these other guys – and girls – would fucking die to have me on their lap. I bet I could get half this bar to get into a fight over me without even trying," Santana snorted, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Yeah, but so could I," Finn reminded her.

Jesus, had he taken confidence lessons from Puck or something? A familiar shiver ran up her spine, and Santana forced herself to calm down. _Stop it, you're not even wearing panties_. _If you get wet, he'll eventually find out_. Somehow, that thought just seemed to egg her on more, just to see how he'd react. Besides, she was kind of a horny drunk and she was pretty sure that that was _not_ a roll of Certs she was feeling. Taking a long pull from her beer, Santana crossed one leg over the other, inspecting her expensive red heels and smiling at the way that they lengthened her legs. She had fantastic legs. She was pretty sure that people would fuck her just based on her legs, and they couldn't even see what was under the clothes. Crossing her legs together tighter, she felt like a teenager who couldn't even keep herself in check, but Finn was looking _hot_ tonight, and she was on his lap and he was half-hard under her.

But he was also employee so that was a bad idea. Like, a terrible idea.

"I think I'm gonna go home," he announced suddenly, looking at her expectantly.

"Already?" Johnny asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, now that we signed this shit, I'm going to have a lot of work to do, so I can't show up _completely_ hungover," Finn sighed, shaking his head.

"Well, I'll go with you. You're too drunk to drive and our apartments are only a few blocks away. I saw it on your application," she smirked, wrapping an arm around her neck.

"Okay, perfect," Finn nodded.

She was kind of surprised that he bought her lie without a hitch. She had no fucking clue where he lived, and she couldn't really be bothered to care. She just wanted to go back to his place. Because if there was one thing that Santana Lopez was always up for, it was a bad idea. Fucking Finn Hudson was a _bad_ idea. A fucking bad idea, but she wanted him and she wanted him _bad_. Plus, it would just be once. It wouldn't be a big deal. She was just horny and she really needed to get laid.

"You're a lucky man, Hudson. There's many a man at the office who'd like to know where this one lives."

"Shut the fuck up, Johnny," Santana snarkled, setting her beer down on the table and stumbling to get up, pulling Finn by the hand out of the bar. She was so ready to get away from the douche bags she worked with.

"Your shirt's still undone," Finn mumbled, licking his lips.

"I know," Santana assured him, moving her free hand up to the button above the one that had popped up and opening it as she looked up at him seductively.

"W-what are you doing?" Finn inquired, looking a little uneasy.

"What do you think?" she smirked, sliding her hand up his arm innocently as she waited to flag down a cab.

"But you're-"

"Your boss? Yeah, I know."

"A lesbian, actually," Finn sighed, shaking his head.

"Or not," she grinned, pressing herself against him. "I told you, a lot's changed since high school. Would I be wet for you if I was a lesbian?"

"N-no," Finn stammered, and she couldn't help but flick her tongue out at his Adam's apple as she watched him swallow hard, causing him to moan quietly. Sighing happily as a cab pulled up, Finn opened up the door and let her in, giving his address as he stepped in. He looked awkward in the back of the cab, since it wasn't really made for someone as tall as him, but she didn't really give a shit.

Sliding onto his lap, she gasped as he gripped her hips, pressing her against him. "Touch me," she whispered before pressing her lips hungrily to his, sucking on his bottom one as his hand slid under her skirt. His touch was gentle on her skin, just enough to send a shiver up her spine as he teased her, taking his time working his fingers up her inner thigh.

Keening her hips towards his hand, she was desperate for _something _to relieve the aching between her thighs and Finn obliged her, running his finger up her slit and collecting some of her wetness before pressing his finger against her clit, rubbing it in irregular motions. _Fuck_. He was really good at this. Every time she'd get comfortable, he'd change what he was doing and the ache would intensify. She wasn't being shy about bucking her hips against his finger. She just wanted to fucking _come_ and he was being a total ass about it. Biting down on his lip as a signal to get a move on, she tugged at his hair desperately as he slipped two fingers into her, moving them quickly. She was so close, and all it took was a flick of his finger against her clit and she was moaning into his mouth, letting his tongue flick against hers as he coaxed her through it. "Fuck," she panted, closing her eyes as the cab driver turned a corner. She had sort of forgotten that they were in a cab and she was quickly forgetting that again as he pulled his fingers up to his mouth and licked them off, moaning a little at her taste. It was really freaking hot.

Kissing him eagerly again, Santana brushed her tongue over his, tasting herself on his tongue with a quiet groan. Something about this was really freaking hot. Maybe it was the drinking or whatever, but this felt like one of those nights that could end up on the top ten, maybe even the top five nights she'd ever spent with a man. Whimpering unhappily as he pulled away to fish out his keys and pay the cab driver, Santana watched his hands move and shivered as the door opened. It had gotten pretty cold out, but luckily she would have Finn in his apartment to keep her warm.

Stepping out of the cab with him, Santana leaned against him as she stumbled up the steps, taking a brief moment to scope out where he lived. It was impressive. An apartment with a door man _and_ an elevator. This was cracking up to be better than she expected. For some reason, a part of her had always pictured Finn living in one of those cheesy frat-like apartments with papers everywhere and empty beer bottles, apparently not.

"Impressed?" he grinned, his eyes glazed over as he reached for her hand, pulling her inside. Normally she would _so_ not be comfortable with that handholding shit, and in a way she still wasn't, but she wasn't going to say anything. Finn was one of those boys who got all _emotional_ over everything, and she didn't want to do anything that was going to prevent her from getting laid. Hell no. She wanted Finn Hudson and she wanted him, like, yesterday…

Of _course_ he would live in the fucking penthouse suite on a thirty floor building, though. Of course. "Seriously, you couldn't have picked a building with less floors?" she whined, borderline pouting because this was taking _forever_.

"You know, if you were any other chick, the penthouse thing would be a turn-on," Finn pointed out, tilting his head to the side as he eyed her curiously.

"Yeah, well now it's preventing your dick from being inside of me so I'm not all that impressed," she snipped, letting out a sigh of relief as the elevator binged for his floor and she stepped out.

Okay, so this apartment was fucking _nice_, nicer than her apartment even. It was open plan, so you could see everything. You could literally be fucking and scouring out other fuckable surfaces at the same time. She was jealous. "Damn, Hudson."

"Told you it'd be a turn-on," he smirked, dropping his jacket and keys onto the entry way table before picking her up. And for some reason she couldn't explain (but was going to blame on the alcohol), she was giggling like an _idiot_, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he pulled her lips back to his and maneuvered his way around the apartment towards his bed.

It felt like Finn's lips were attacking her with the ferocity of his kisses. They weren't nice, playful kisses like she'd expected. They were hot and dirty, with his tongue sweeping against hers and teasing it and almost taunting her into wanting it to end up somewhere else. Not that she didn't already want it in other places, but this wasn't helping at all. Tugging at his shirt, Santana wasn't exactly patient, and Finn's button down might have been work appropriate, but it sure as hell wasn't sex appropriate. Growling unhappily, she pulled at both sides, smirking as the buttons popped off and rolled to the floor. Finn pouted, and he looked like he might want to cry, but she silenced him with another kiss, pulling him down with her as he dropped her onto the bed.

Licking her lips as he pulled his shirt off of his arms, Santana pressed her heels to his chest, dragging them down slowly until her right foot stopped above the waistband of his belt. Those heels were her trademark and Finn seemed mesmerized as he watched her foot move. "Pants off. _Now_," she ordered, growling and licking her lips again as he obeyed, undoing his belt and dropping his pants as she looked up at him expectantly.

Rolling on top of him as he flopped down onto the bed, Santana whimpered as he gripped her hips, peppering the exposed skin on her chest with kisses. While usually she liked everything to go fast, and while she still wanted him in her, she couldn't help but tangle her hand into his hair, whispering his name as he slid a hand up her side to the front of her shirt, tugging at the buttons until he had them all undone.

"So hot," he mumbled, nipping gently at her skin as his hand wrapped around her back to undo her bra and push it off her arms. Santana smirked, satisfied with his response as her bra landed on the floor with the rapidly building pile of clothes.

Shivering as he blew a puff of air at her nipple, Santana arched her back as Finn's mouth closed around her nipple, sucking on it gently as she moved her hand down to cup him through the thin fabric of his boxers. She still remembered from high school that Finn was definitely _proportionate_, she just hoped that he knew what to do with that big dick of his now that he was a little older, but given how he was doing this far, she was guessing that he was going to be fine.

"Finn," she moaned as he bit down gently on her nipple, letting his free hand move along her thigh and slip past the hem of her skirt. He smirked, satisfied by the way she was trying to hide the fact that she was desperate for him. And she was _desperate_. She was wet again and having him so close to her and feeling him through his boxers was definitely not doing anything to help that situation. "I need you in me," she pleaded, tugging at the zipper on her skirt and pulling away slightly to take it off, tugging his boxers down after.

Squealing as he flipped them over, Santana shivered at the way he was looking at her, his eyes riddled with lust. She was vaguely aware of his hand trailing down her leg as she moved it onto his shoulder, but she was too focused on closing the space between their lips. Santana had never been great with eye contact, particularly during sex, so the less he was staring at her, the better. "Are you still…" he asked, trailing off and leaving her to figure out the rest.

"Yeah, just get in me," she nodded. The contraceptive pill was made for a reason, and she was going to die if he had to run off somewhere to get a condom. Finn wasn't the type of guy to sleep around with any girl who looked at him, so she wasn't worried. Licking her lips as she watched his hand move along his length, stroking himself a few times, she moaned loudly as he pushed into her, not hard, but not gentle either. "Finn," she whimpered, letting out a breathy moan as her legs wrapped around his hips, her heels clicking briefly as they met, the bottoms scratching at his skin gently.

Finn buried his face into her neck as he found a steady rhythm, pushing into her fast and deep. They both wanted the same thing and there was no point in hiding it. They both needed to come and the sooner, the better. "God, Finn, _yes_," she moaned, arching her back slightly as her nails dragged along his skin, hard enough to leave scratches all along his back. He seemed to like the way her name fell from his lips because he pushed deeper, running a hand along her leg as he pressed gentle kisses to her neck. He was _so_ much better at this than he had been in high school, and she was feeling dizzy from the snapping of his hips and the way he felt pressed against her. It felt good, _too_ good even, not that she would ever tell him that shit. She _was_ Santana Lopez, after all.

It didn't last long, but then again, it wasn't supposed to. They were two horny people who clearly had too much built up sexual tension working together in that office, they just needed to release the tension. Biting down on her lip as she tightened around him, Santana whimpered his name, moving her hips against his as he toppled over the edge right after her, breathing heavily as his hips bucked erratically through his climax.

Letting herself sink back down into the mattress, Santana loosened her grip on his back and sighed happily as she pushed her hair out of her face, trying to catch her breath as she closed her eyes. Finn Hudson had definitely had some schooling in the art of sex. He wasn't the awkward little virgin anymore, and he knew it. Damn him.

Bringing an arm up over her head, Santana moved over to one side of the bed as he pulled out of her, giving him some space to lie down next to her. "I don't like, cuddle," she warned him. "This was just a one-time thing, it doesn't mean anything," she added.

It was strange the way his face fell after that. They both laid in silence until they fell asleep. She never realized the irony in her own words, and if she had, she would still have been too drunk to care.


End file.
